I Will Always Love You: A Klaine Story
by Blainderson
Summary: Set about 25 years in the future. After years apart Klaine finally reunite, but their reunion is caused by Kurt's outspoken 16 year old.
1. Chapter 1

Blaine rested his pen down on his desk as he sighed. That was the fourth detention slip he had written that week, and it was only Wednesday.

"Michael, come here and take your slip." Blaine was aggravated and he had a right to be, his student was surely getting way out of hand.

"Thanks a lot Mr. Anderson. Wait to ruin my plans" the fifteen year old Michael said before taking the slip and sinking back into his seat in the right corner.

"Mr. Smith, you cannot keep disrupting my class. If you continue to act like this I'm going to have to phone your parents." Blaine hated being the bad guy, but he couldn't take the loud mouthing he kept receiving from this teenager.

"Fine. Call my dad. Do I look like I give two shits?" Michael threw his legs onto his desk and leaned back in his chair. "I'll even give you the number. 555—" Blaine was in shock, he had never been spoken to by a student that way before. "Mr. Anderson, don't you want my dad's number? You should probably be writing this down." He smirked as his friends cheered around him. Blaine pulled out a piece of paper and started to write what the boy had said. "555-suck-my-dick."

Blaine was enraged. "Michael. See me after class."

Michael didn't care, because he made history in that sixty minute time frame he had to sit in Mr. Anderson's music appreciation class.

When the bell rang Blaine walked over to Michael's desk. "You will be meeting me here tomorrow after school with your father. You understand me? If you do not show up, I have no other excuse but to fail you for the quarter. Do I make myself clear?"

"You can't do that! If I fail the class than I can't stay on the baseball team. What the fuck Mr. Anderson!"

"Michael, do not speak to me like that. I am your teacher. Not your friend. Get out of my classroom. And be here tomorrow with your father, or I _will _fail you."

Mike scoffed and shuffled out of the hallway. One of his friends Jason walked over to him. "That Mr. Anderson needs to get laid."

"I know. I don't understand what the fuck his problem is. My dad's not even going to care, it's literally going to be a waste of his time. He's got enough shit to do, he doesn't need Blaine Anderson's crap on top of it."

"We should find him a girl to fuck. Maybe that'll get him out of our hair." Jason added as he walked towards fifth period Chem.

"Something tells me Anderson flies the other way..." Mike walked into the classroom and sat beside his best friend.

Blaine was sitting at his desk organizing papers when he looked at the clock. It was already four and Michael was supposed to be here with his father. Blaine scoffed. "typical." Suddenly his door flew open and a thin man rushed through the door.

"I'm here! I'm here! I'm sorry my meeting ran late and I—" The man looked up and met Blaine's eyes. The blue eyes that stood before Blaine were so familiar and comforting; they reminded him of high school.

High school had been a good twenty-seven years ago, and Blaine's green eyes were still bright but he looked older, his hair still curly, and equally as gentleman like. He smiled when he looked at the man standing in front of him. He was still just as stunning as he was when he left for New York so many years ago.

The blue eyed man froze in front of the desk. "I can't believe this…" he finally spoke as he took another step towards Blaine. "Is it you?"

Blaine nodded a little and stood up. He took another look into the crystal blue eyes that were in front of him. He loved those eyes, they belonged to the first person he ever loved.

"Your Michael's teacher?" Kurt finally asked as he fell into one of the seats. "I'm truly embarrassed…"

Blaine shrugged. "I didn't know you're his father. I'm pretty sure I would have been slightly lenient if I knew he was your offspring. Yet, he doesn't seem to have the same personality as you. I mean, not the personality I remembered."

"He's usually not this bad." Kurt played with the buttons on the sleeve of his oxford.

"He's a smart kid. He just acts out, and I can't put my finger on why."

"Ever since his father died he's been testy and distant…" Kurt faded out as he signed.

"Oh Kurt…I'm so sorry to hear that…" Blaine's heart fell. He wanted Kurt to be happy, and he knew a piece of him must have died when his husband passed.

"It's okay. He was sick. He's in a better place now." Kurt shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. "So what about you? Marriage kids? I always saw you as the fatherly type."

"Divorced. Recently. And I have a daughter, Lily. She's actually in a few of Michael's classes."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I hope everything is alright between you two…and I have to say I've heard Mike talk about a Lily. I wonder if it's the same girl." Kurt took a sip of his coffee; Nonfat Mocha.

"Could be. Look Kurt, Mike has been a real distraction in my class, and I really can't afford to keep falling behind. Will you please speak to him?" Blaine pulled out some papers that needed to be graded and set them on his desk.

"Of course. But Blaine…"

"Yeah Kurt?" Blaine looked up from his papers and straight at his old flame.

"Would you like to get dinner tomorrow night? I'd really like to catch up…"

"I'd love that. Lily's staying at Jason's this weekend so I'm daughterless." He smiled and looked back at the papers.

"Perfect." Kurt slid a piece of paper with his number onto Blaine's desk. "Call me later…okay?"

Blaine nodded. "Of course."

Kurt smiled and collected his belongings before walking out of the classroom and down the hallway. He found Mike kissing some girl against a group of lockers. Agitated Kurt grabbed Mike by the backpack and forcefully pulled him outside.

"You're grounded." Kurt exclaimed before driving off into the distance.


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt unlocked the door to his penthouse apartment. He pushed the door open and almost toppled to the ground as Michael pushed his father out of the way so he could sprint up the steps to his room. Kurt flinched as he heard the door slam shut. He placed his belongings on the kitchen table before walking up the stairs and knocking on Mike's door. Kurt could hear the rock music, it easily penetrated the thin walls of the rather upscale apartment.

"Michael, open this door right now our I will break it open." Kurt's voice was stern, yet slightly shaky. He knew there was no way in hell that Mike would open the door for his father. Kurt walked down the hallway and found the electrical box. Kurt ran his finger down the side until he found the switch for his son's room. Kurt flipped the switch and he could finally hear himself think, but it was only for a moment.

"What the fuck dad!" The door swung open and Kurt was face to face with his son. His chestnut brown hair was pushed messily to the side, a few strands hanging over his left eye, yet you could still see the emerald green between the strands of hair. His tie was undone, as were the first few buttons of his oxford, and his sleeves were rolled revealing the toned arms that Michael had "inherited" from Thomas. Michael was literally the spitting image of his father, which was probably the reason behind Kurt's leniency towards him. Kurt felt that Mike was the only thing of Thomas that he had left.

"You will listen to me Michael. I am your father. The way you're acting in Bla—Mr. Anderson's class isn't acceptable. Do you understand me?"

"Did you not have a talk with him today? He's the biggest douche bag on the face of this earth dad! Come on? Who's side are you on? Your own sons, or some dick teacher that you just met?" Michael threw his arms up in rage.

"Michael, I think we should talk. You've been acting out a whole lot these past few months. And I can't help but believe you're having a hard time coping with your father's passing, and I think it would be best for the both of us if we sat down and—" Kurt was interrupted

"This has nothing to do with dad, okay? I think it would be best for the both of us if you just left me alone. If you're not going to be on my side, I don't want to have a discussion with you."

Mike went to slam the door, but Kurt caught it before he could. "Two weeks Michael. You have two weeks to sit here and think about the mistakes you've made. And I pray to God that you wake up from this childish dream Mike. If you're going to mourn over your father's death, I understand, but do disrespect adults in the process! Now that's not the young man your father and I raised. So, you can enjoy your break here, in this apartment, and hopefully you can learn from your mistakes." Kurt turned his heel and walked down the stairs. Mike slammed the door shut and Kurt heard a few things hit the ground but he kept walking. He really needed to learn how to be the bad cop, after years of being the good one.

Kurt sat at the kitchen table nibbling on some fruit salad when his phone rang. Kurt swallowed then answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Kurt?" a familiar soft voice asked on the other end.

"Blaine…I wasn't expecting your call so soon. Is everything alright?"

"Oh everything's fine. I just wanted to verify we still had a date—I mean dinner tomorrow night…" Blaine automatically regretted using the word "date". It had been so long since he's been on one, even longer since Kurt was the one he was sitting with.

"O-oh. Of course. Does seven work for you? I have a meeting with the editor and chief of V—" Kurt was cut off by Blaine.

"Shh. Shh. Don't tell me. I want to know about the fashion guru Kurt tomorrow. I don't want to spoil any surprises. Seven it is, I know this great Italian place in the village. My buddies and I went all through college."

"NYU class of 2017?" Kurt smiled softly.

"Fashion Institute of Technology Class of 2016?" Blaine smiled slightly. He remembered when Kurt left for New York, it's when all their troubles began, and that year; 2016 was the year they last spoke even though they were only blocks away from each other.

Kurt cleared his throat. "Should I meet you there or-?"

"Uh no. I'll meet you at your apartment. Uh where do you live?"

"I live on fifth avenue…why don't I just meet you in Central Park?" Kurt's voice trembled. He was almost embarrassed that he lived such a luxurious lifestyle. He was sure Blaine wasn't doing badly for himself however he was going through a divorce, and he had a daughter to raise. And let's be honest, even Kurt knew that'd be difficult on a teacher's salary.

"That's perfect. I'll see you tomorrow night Kurt."  
>"Tomorrow night…" And with that Kurt hung up and held his phone to his chest.<p>

"Lil. I'm grounded. I can't come out tomorrow night."

"Come on Mike. My dad thinks I'm going to my other dad's house. It was perfect timing."

"I know…look I'll try and sneak out."

"Okay. Just…Mike be careful okay?"

"Yeah. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Night."

"Goodnight Mike."

Kurt was fixing his bowtie and vest in the hallway mirror when Mike came down the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Mike asked as he looked at his father.

"Out." Kurt said as he straightened his vest and pulled his Alexander McQueen trench from the closet.

"With?"

"A friend. A client. Why does it matter Michael."

"How long are you going to be gone for?"

"A few hours. If I come home and you are not in this apartment tack on 3 extra months to your grounding.

"Months! You've got to be shitting me!"

"Michael! That's another thing. We're done with this language. If you don't watch it, I'll tack on another 3 weeks to the extra three months. Upstairs now."

"Kurt watched his son sulk up the stairs. "I'll be back later. Goodnight Mike." And with that Kurt closed the door and made his way down the elevator, out the lobby and to the center of Central Park.

Kurt found Blaine on a bench with his hands dug deeply into his pockets. A traditional Burberry scarf was wrapped around his neck, hair perfectly combed to the side and a pair of black spectacles rimmed his green eyes.

"Hi Kurt." Blaine said as he stood from the bench.

"Hi Blaine." Kurt bit his lip. He remembered what had drawn him to Blaine in the first place. His smile was welcoming and warm, his arms so inviting. Kurt wanted more than anything to jump in his arms, or at least lace his fingers with Blaine's that were securely hidden in his jacket pockets.

"We could catch a cab" Blaine said as he started walking towards the busy streets of New York City.

"Right." Kurt nodded and followed after Blaine.

"So, let's start with after college…I mean when I left…"Kurt stopped "I didn't mean it like that I just…What did you do after you graduated?"

"I got my master's degree and got my teaching job back at McKinley. I actually taught there for a few years. I met Jason there he the assistant principal actually. Eventually we started dating and he asked me to marry him. I said yes, a few years into our marriage we adopted Lily. She was the only thing that really seemed to keep our marriage together." Blaine opened the cab door for Kurt and Kurt slid in still intrigued by what Blaine was telling him.

"When Lily was eight we moved back to New York. Jason didn't think it was such a great idea, Lily should be brought up in a suburban town not in a city. Part of me couldn't get the idea of New York out of my head. So eventually we found an apartment we could afford and we raised Lily there. I got a job as a music teacher at Trinity and I've been working there since Lily was nine. Jason didn't like everything I liked about the city so we fought quite a bit. And last June we kind of just agreed to end it." Blaine fiddled with his fingers. He wasn't sure if what he just laid on Kurt was what he was actually looking for when he asked him what he had been up to since college.

Kurt just smiled. "I always knew you'd end up teaching. You always seemed to love kids so much. It's what I loved most about you Blaine…"

Blaine closed his eyes and then opened them once again. "Then why did you leave?"


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt sighed as the cab pulled up to the restaurant. "Blaine let's be realistic. We were so young, so naïve. I was so worried about starting my career…" Kurt looked away. He knew that he made a mistake so many years earlier but his career was important to him, and look how far he had come.

"Blaine did you really expect me to stay? I was 22 and you were just 21. That's too young to be married and start a family. I wasn't ready…" Kurt got out of the cab, and Blaine quickly followed.

"Don't you think I was nervous Kurt? All I knew was that I wanted you in my life and I needed you in it. Our age wasn't a factor because I knew that no matter what life threw at me if I had Kurt Hummel by my side everything would be okay…"

"Blaine. That was a good twenty years ago. Things have changed, I've changed, and you've changed. There's no way that we could sit here and agree that things would have worked out perfectly because let's faced it! Was there anything remotely perfect in our relationship Blaine?"

They were both standing in front of the restaurants doors. "Are you trying to tell me there was nothing worth working towards in our relationship Kurt? Is that why you ran away? Is that why you got up one day and just left without even explaining why you left?"

"Blaine I had a good reason."

"What? That I was holding back your career? Oh that's bullshit Kurt. You know damn well that I would have supported you through everything. But you were selfish Kurt. So selfish! All you ever cared about was that internship from Vogue. It was always me me me me me!" Suddenly Blaine was holding his cheek as the strike of Kurt's hand left a sting.

Kurt covered his mouth still shocked from his previous action. "Blaine…I'm sorry…I wasn't thinking…"

"Maybe this was a bad idea…Who was I kidding. You're a widow, I'm a divorcee, whatever I expected to happen between us. Just I'll see Mike in detention." Blaine wiped his mouth and started down the street.

Kurt watched him walk away, he watched his first love fall through his fingers yet again. "Blaine wait!"

Blaine stopped but didn't turn around. "Please…let me at least take you home?"

Blaine's hand went up as he called them both a taxi.

"You live in the Plaza?" Kurt asked as they walked towards the elevators of the famous New York Hotel.

"Why are you so surprised?" Blaine asked as he pressed the up button and the doors slid open.

"I mean on a teacher salary…the Plaza?"

"Who said teaching was the only thing I did?" Blaine pulled his key out of his pocket and opened the door to his apartment. Kurt stood at the door and admired the beauty that stood in front of him. The apartment was so elegant it reminded him of the old Eloise books. Lily must've felt like Eloise living here at the Plaza. Kurt placed his trench on the chair and sauntered around the room. He turned to find a shelf filled with Grammy's lined in a row.

"Are these yours?" Kurt asked running his fingertips over the italic Blaine Anderson.

"Oh yeah. I'm a song writer, teaching I guess is a side job. Or writing is the side job. Either way a few of my songs have gotten awards." He opened a bottle of wine.

Kurt sighed. "I'm sorry about hitting you before…I guess I was just…hurt by it when I should just face the fact that I am pretty selfish."

"That's not true Kurt. I get myself worked up and I guess since my marriage failed I was just confused. I don't know." Blaine handed Kurt a glass. "Now tell me about your life since graduation."

"Well you know I got my internship at Vogue. I worked with that for a little while. Eventually I started creating my own line and that's when I met Thomas. Thomas was lovely. He actually is the spitting image of Michael. We used a surrogate for Mike. But we dated for a few years, he asked me to marry him and I said yes. When Mike turned 14, Thomas was diagnosed with Leukemia, and he lost the battle last spring. We were married for almost 18 years…" Kurt signed and downed the glass of wine. He didn't like talking about Thomas. It still hurt.

"I'm sorry about that Kurt… I really am…" Blaine sighed and finished his glass.

After about five or six glasses of wine both men were clearly intoxicated. Kurt's legs were thrown over Blaine's thighs and both were laughing, yet neither could remember what it was that they were actually laughing about.

Blaine took a moment to admire Kurt for a moment. His hair was messy, and lips were red from the stain of the wine. After all these years Blaine had forgotten what Kurt's lips tasted and felt like, and for the first time all night he wanted to be reminded.

Kurt was in midsentence when Blaine pressed a sloppy kiss to Kurt's lips. Kurt was startled and a little thrown back by it but too drunk to retreat. He placed his glass on the table before wrapping his arms around Blaine's neck. The spark that went through the both of them was a familiar one, one that they remembered from high school and their first few years of college.

Blaine loved the taste of Kurt's lips. They were much better than the taste that always lingered on Jason's. Blaine couldn't help but run his tongue gently across Kurt's bottom lip, which led to a muffled moan and separation of Kurt's lips. Blaine pressed Kurt down on the couch and he could feel Kurt's hands begin to gently tug on Blaine's cardigan. The piece of cashmere was flung across the living room and the buttons of Blaine's oxford were pulled apart and Kurt was placing sloppy kisses down Blaine's chest.

Blaine closed his eyes and recalled their first time. They had fought before, but they made up in a beautiful way. Kurt was proud of Blaine then. And Blaine wished that Kurt was still proud of him.

The oxford was suddenly off with the cardigan and the buttons of Kurt's McQueen vest were flung across the room since Blaine tugged a little too roughly at the vest.

They eventually retreated to the bedroom where both were stripped completely naked. It was the first time they had sex in 20 years. It was still as beautiful as the first and last, yet a little sloppier than before.

Kurt fell asleep pressed to Blaine's body. The rise and fall of each breath was peaceful, something Blaine had missed since Thomas' passing. Kurt snuggled closer to Blaine and closed his eyes hoping that he would never have to wake up from this dream.


End file.
